Dark triad
by phiewdh
Summary: He's not gay. He just enjoys what it looks like. The conquering. The dominance. A man can always conquer a woman, that's not even up for debate. It becomes boring, way too quick. But there's a different dynamic to gay sex. There's a power struggle, even if there's no blatant intent.
1. Chapter 1

He waits, being on the top floor. Doing his best to be unattainable to him downstairs. Knowing what consequences that might bring. Feeling immensely unstimulated by the fact that he has to wait. He wants something to happen, he wants him to be the catalyst. It's more interesting that way.

He sits with his laptop on his knees, doing his usual round. Mail, Youtube, porn, news just to see if something engages him but as always, it's a no-go. Twitter, porn, Facebook. The university's website. Gay porn. He feels a prickle, somewhere in his head. Seeing the guy bottoming incapacitated with his hands tied behind his back doesn't do much for him. If anything. The guy topping, though…

He's not gay. He just enjoys what it looks like. The conquering. The dominance. A man can always conquer a woman, that's not even up for debate. It becomes boring, way too quick. But there's a different dynamic to gay sex. There's a power struggle, even if there's no blatant intent. Something that excites him.

That prickle in his head becomes a tap when the guy on top switches positions forcefully. Still inside. It becomes a knock when the top's hands reaches around the bottom's neck. It becomes an almost ear-deafening boom inside, one that shakes his core, when the bottom passes out, regains consciousness and passes out again. It looks beautiful.

He wants that too. He wants to feel in control, he wants to be the one deciding over him. If he's lucid or not. If he's lucid or not. If he's alive or not. He's tried a lot of different ways already, some better than others. Seeing him hang by the noose around his neck, hearing him calling his name to beg for mercy… That was a good moment. That made him feel alive, the rush was incredible.

Pressing him against the body of that disgusting man that asked him for a blowjob, that was wonderful too. Seeing how the knife just slid inside his belly, with no resistance. Pushing it further in with the help of that thin, effeminate excuse of a man. Seeing the reaction of them both dying, at the same time, in different ways. He grows hard thinking about it. That was magical. He even kept a trophy.

 _Can't he just do something? I want the release._

* * *

"Bum! I'm going out," he says whilst sitting down on his heels. He ruffles his hair. "It'll only be a couple of hours. Okay?"

"Yes, Sangwoo." Bum's lying on the mattress next to the closet, eyes being nothing but small slits. Dressed in clothes that does nothing for his masculinity. He really isn't a man, pawing over him like the perverted freak he is. On the other hand, it makes it easier to pretend, to make it slightly more okay in his head to kiss him. To let him fondle with his tiny hands. Strange how he never objects to wearing a skirt. It would be more fun if he did.

He walks out, stands to think in front of the door to the outside for a moment. The outside, that's where he becomes someone else. Someone much more dreary. He scoffs. No, that's just not true. He's blossoming out there. Becoming more and more interested by the hunt. Becoming more skilled with the chase. The small scenarios where he finds his intellect to be challenged. How to make people come with him is what he loves. Internally laughing at their stupidity when he says all the things they want to hear. When the women coo, when the men adjust their cocks in pants too constricting. That's what he loves, because he's the one gets to take all that away. The feeling afterwards is better than any orgasm. Lasts longer too.

He puts his shoes on and opens the door, closes it a second later. He silently walks up the stairs and waits. Something is bound to happen, and he's ready for it. He feels the anticipation hard to contain. Before he reclines, he looks over the handrail. Down on the floor. He smiles, puts his hands behind his head and drifts off to sleep.

He awakes to the faint noises of beeps. His heart suddenly beats a little faster, knowing very well that he's got all the reasons to intervene. _It was so easy._ He sits up, softly. Making sure to not make any noise. Oh, indeed. He is past the line, his mobile in his hands. It was indeed so easy to lead him astray. That weak mind in that feeble body... It's fucking insulting how simple it is. _How dare he?_

He hears him sob. That reaction is priceless, it only took so much. He tries to hear what he's mumbling, but decides that he'll get it out of him eventually. He's got him pretty much figured out, knowing he wouldn't call for help but instead, be all over his personal shit. Although, he wants to know if it's the pictures or the texts that turns him into a heap of quivers. It's really laughable watching him from above, he seems even more insignificant.

"Hey, Bum! What'cha doing?" He walks down the stairs, there's no need to rush. It's not like he can go anywhere. "Are you always picking up stuff that aren't yours? You a thief? Ever considered that I want my privacy, too?"

"Sa… Sangwoo. I… No, please." He looks up, eyes overflowing. "It was there, on the floor, I… Please, I didn'tㅡ"

"You've gone past the line too? What, are you retarded? I told you not to, didn't I?" He sighs. Not understanding that display with wails, tears and trembles. He never will. Nor does he care.

"I can… I can make you feel good! You liked that before, right? Sangwoo, please, I… I'm sorry!"

"You're such a slut." He extends his hand, waiting for him to grab hold. He does, instantly. That feeling of gratification makes him heady. "Why do you keep saying that? It doesn't work on me, I don't like guys." He yanks him by the arm until he's somewhat standing before he scoops him up.

"No, no, no, Sangwoo! Not the basement, please! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" His cries grow louder as they enter the room, as they face the closet. But he doesn't fight, squirm or kick. He latches on to him instead. A hand creeps underneath the collar of his shirt, digging into his shoulder.

"It wasn't my intention." He drops him on the floor, hearing the thud his body creates at his feet. His shoulder stings, but he disregards it. "Now. Let's talk. And you'll be quiet, yes?"

"Yes! I'll be quiet, just don'tㅡ"

He presses Bum's face against the floor. Putting his entire weight on his temple. Feeling the crunch against his palm makes him smile. Hearing him plead makes him snicker. But only on the inside. He tries to keep it that way.

It's important to remember that _he_ made him do this, by talking back with his 'sorry'. Disobeying him by crossing lines. Provoking with his straying hands. He was just too bold, too unruly.

"Sangwoo, pl… please! It hurts, you're hurting me!" His voice was loud. Again, he wasn't keeping his word. To be silent. To be compliant. That was a breach in trust.

"I told you to shut up. Didn't I? I asked you nicely." He bends over, making sure that the doesn't support himself on his free arm. Pushing down his weight not only on his temple, but on his cheek as well. He looks into his eyes. Those, weepy, pathetic eyes that always look so desperate for some unknown reason. Especially when he feels accommodating.

It amuses him. Seeing the rest of his body writhe but his head is pinned down. Making the skirt shift, exposing his ass. He should be still, but he's got some fight in him. That's promising for later, but right now. He's not respecting him at all.

He moves his hand, pushing down on his temple again. "Aren't you happy?" He opens his mouth and lets a thin string of saliva fall down on Bum's cheek, drizzling it with the help of his tongue. "See, it's like a kiss. That's what you want, right?"

"San… Sangwoo…"

"Still not satisfied?" He scoffs. "Aren't you needy? Like most sluts, you just want more. With no concern how that makes me feel."

But it's true. He is needy. No matter what he offers Bum, he wants and he takes whatever scraps he's given. Never complaining, just being hard and unsatisfied. Full of moans, mostly oohs and aahs. Sometimes other sounds escape him too, the more interesting ones. The ones where he cries out, but not out of pleasure. It seems like that line is extremely thin, and not knowing what treatment evokes what response is slightly unsettling. This will be the day he finds out.

"I'll give you more. Stay." He takes his hand off Bum's temple, smears the saliva on his cheek before he stands up. "Do not move."

A kitchen can contain many treasures. A cloth, plastic bags, duct tape… And some other things as well. He feels giddy as he makes his decisions.

"Bum," he says as he returns, sitting next to him on the floor, "you've gone through my phone. Now, I want to know things about you. That's only fair." The look he gets in return is bewildered, but he doesn't care. He starts with his questions right away.

"How did you enter my apartment?"

"...no, I…"

"Three, two onㅡ"

"I figured out the code! For the front door!"

"See, I love it when you can be honest with me. It's easy! I'm a really forgiving guy." He laughs. "The man you killed, your first kill, what did it feel like?"

Tears well up instantly in Bum's eyes, and he begins to crawl into a fetal position.

"Oh, is that too personal? Well… Okay." He rips a plastic bag from the roll and puts it over Bum's head. "This has got to do with trust. You leave it there until I say so. If you really mean what you say you do, you leave it on." He rips off a strip of tape and secures the edges of the bag with it, making sure not to wrap the tape too tight. At first, at least.

"So," he resumes, "that man. What did you feel, Killer?" He puts his chin against his hand, observing him. This is a new favorite pastime. Finding out what builds and breaks him.

The bag becomes steamed up immediately, and Bum's hands are quick to rip the bag apart.

Without a second's hesitation, he takes a swing at him. Hits him across the mouth. "That's not what we agreed to. Again." He rips off a new plastic bag. When he's trying to put it over Bum's head again, his hands are putting up a fight. He feels the rush within seconds. He drops the bag and grabs one of the flailing wrists, using his other hand to reach for the duct tape.

It's easy to overpower him. He just flips him over to his stomach and puts a knee between his shoulder blades. He feels a flutter of disappointment. A lot of things are easy with him. Too easy.

He bends Bum's arm backwards and tapes them together. Now, he's the one deciding when he's allowed to draw breath. It feels… better. More like it should. But, as soon as his arms are taped together, he loses the will to fight. He just remains as still as one can when crying frantically. Yet another disappointment.

"Okay… this is a let down. Man… And I'm just trying to get to know you, you know?" He sighs. "I'm giving you one more chance to make you redeem yourself. If you're smart, you take it." He strokes his hair before he opens the plastic bag with a flick of his wrist. "If you relax, you'll last longer. And I think you're going to want that."


	2. Chapter 2

It's an interesting game. That is how he looks at it, like something playful that takes practise. He's not bad at it as it is, but he wants to get better, to up his ante. To get closer to reading him and every little cue. That is the only way to get in control. That's why it's been going on for a while, him poking holes in plastic bags that are being put over the head of someone else. Just before the passing out happens. Or at least trying to make it so.

Every time his finger breaks the plastic barrier and enters his mouth and touches his tongue, just before the gasping begins, he gets a rush. That little nanosecond of uncertainty, if he's actually going to breathe again, it's fantastic.

He seems sluggish now. His gasps aren't as explosive, they are more like sighs. It's not as entertaining after a while. So he decides to watch him instead, realising that he forgot all about the purpose of the game itself. To ask questions.

"Hey, Bum? Listen." He gets an almost inaudible moan in response. "Did you find what you were looking for? In my phone?"

It looks like he's trying to open his eyes, trying to fixate them, but he ends up having them closed. He looks really unattractive, covered in maybe seven layers of plastic. It's distracting, not at all like the clip he was watching before.

He goes to get a pair of scissors, feeling an annoyance bubble up. Why didn't it look the same? Why wasn't he giving him the same exhilaration?

He returns, sits down next to him. "You're weak, you know that? To think that something as fundamental as breathing is difficult for you, huh?" The lack of response infuriates him, but it passes quick. He bops him over the head with a scoff.

The scissors dig into Bum's skin a little as he tries to get them underneath all those layers of duct tape. It's hard to make them fit, the tape is tight. "It would be easier if I just just press your throat together. Then I wouldn't cut you, there would be more room."

He manages to cut through the tape eventually, and removes the layers upon layers of plastic.

"Are you thirsty? You're not saying much."

"...yes… Wat...er."

"Sure. I'll get you some. But you will have to tell me what you found in my phone before you drink. Deal?" He thinks he sees a small nod and goes off to fetch a bottle of water. When he returns, he notices that he's moved. Rolled over a little to his side.

"Feeling better? You seem tired, Bum." He sits down next to him, pulls him close so that his narrow back is against his chest. "So, about my phone, Bum. It was really low of you to use it. Tell me, what did you find?"

"...photos…" It sounds like he's speaking with the help on an exhale.

"You looked at my photos? Tsk. They're not meant for you. What did you see?"

"...ater, please… Sangwoo…"

"That was not what we agreed on. You seem to be digging a deep hole right now. I don't know if I can trust you at all, you know."

"There… was… a girl."

"A girl? Really? What was she doing?"

He makes a feeble attempt to reach for the water bottle. It's easy to stop him, all he has to do is to stretch his arm out a bit. Bum's hands feel floppy as he touches his elbow and upper arm, seemingly trying to get him to give in.

"What was she doing?!" He screams into his ear. Feeling him flinch.

"...on top of you."

"Not so hard, was it?" He unscrews the cap and offers Bum a sip. "What else?"

"Sangwoo… I…"

"Tell me. You're the one who took my phone."

"She… you were hav… ing sex."

He laughs and holds the bottle to Bum's lips. "You liked that, huh? Did you see the texts too?"

He nods.

"What did you think of them? Makes you curious?"

"I know it's… true. I… I've felt you."

Of course, it was meant just for him. The images, the texts. There wasn't anything else on the phone other than his contacts. He just wanted to see what he would do, how he would react when he saw proof of him choosing someone else. Choosing a woman.

Apparently, finding the pictures of her riding him as he took them, making sure that he would get a glimpse of his dick as she was on her way of filling herself up, had made Bum feel something. Reading every whorish text about him being big and screwing her good obviously had some kind of effect too.

"What did you enjoy more?" He wants to know, needs to know, for further reference.

"Seeing you." His voice is low, almost too low to hear.

"Seeing me? Aren't you a perv. But that's what you like, huh?"

"Y… yes."

He feels his taped up hands against his crotch. They're not really exploring, not really resting there. It's like they're doing something in between. Something that could seem unintentional. But he knows better, he's pawing at him again because that is how he is. A perverted, effeminate piece of shit that thinks he's going to get love in return.

So, he shoves him. He falls forward, even though the effort was miniscule. With his face ending up against the floor and his ass showing underneath the skirt.

"That's what you like, you said. Seeing me. Now you're going to feel me too."

He slides down Bum's underwear, hearing him make noise between a gasp and a whimper. As he pushes in, the whimper becomes a cry. He likes it, maybe he can control the noises he makes if he's a bit inventive. He pushes, hard. Doing repeated, forceful thrusts makes him cry out.

"Sa… ah! Ah! No, no!"

 _Making the same sounds as any woman I've ever fucked. Shit, he's lewd._

"St...op. Please, Sangwoo, sto… ah!"

"You like that? Taking it in the ass like that?"

"Ngh… ah, y… yes!"

He goes slow, making every plunge inch its way into him. Trying to assess what happens. Bum becomes silent, following his motions instead of resisting them like before. It's not as fun, so he begins anew. Trying to barge in with force, needing that ridiculous cry in order to find it interesting. This time, Bum doesn't disappoint. He let's out a sound that sounds like an union between a gargle and a moan.

He flips him over, so he ends up on his back. Taking hold of one of his legs to use it for leverage, for stability. Bum's head bobs back and forth as he continues to press into him.

"Hey, Bum? Are you unconscious?" He stops to investigate, and drops the leg with a thud. It seems like he is, with his eyes being half-closed and the whites of his eyes glaring underneath the eyelids. Not moving, not resisting. Not making any noises.

"You never fail to disappoint, you retard." He reaches for the cloth and leans over, putting it over Bum's face. "Time to wake up!" He takes the water bottle and pours it over the incline underneath the cloth, knowing very well that it is his nose.

Almost immediately, Bum starts to cough, sputter and flail with his body as the water finds its way down his airways. So he begins to thrust anew, but it feels difficult not using both hands. He empties the bottle before he continues, leaving the cloth where it was.

"You see, Bum," he says as he pushes, going as deep and as far as he possibly can, feeling exhilarated by the screams, "I find it pathetic that you think I would really fuck you. I mean, fucking you is like fucking my mom. It's just wrong." He reaches for the cloth and yanks it off Bum's face with a flourish. "Surprise!"

He sees Bum's eyes dash from left to right before he looks down. Wanting to see what he's doing to him, no doubt. How filled up he is. How ravaged he's been by the zucchini.

Bum's eyes is starting to tear up, he's trying to wriggle away, close his legs. Trying to get away instead of resisting, pushing back, going with the rhythm. "Sangwoo, no! Please, please… please stop! I beg of you!"

He humors him, feeling empowered by his discovery. He pulls out the zucchini with a laugh. "To think you thought that I would actually do that! Oh, you're so amusing. Really, Bum?" He slides over to Bum's side.

He grips his cheeks, pressing in hard, making him open his mouth. "Open wide, Bum."

He can't speak with his cheeks being pushed together like that, but his head tries to whip from side to side, his body tensing up.

"What," he asks in a mocking tone. "If this was my dick, you would be all over it, wouldn't you?" He presses the zucchini into Bum's mouth, past his lips and feels it scrape against his teeth. "What do you taste like? Shit?"

As vomit start to seep through the corners of Bum's mouth, he stands up. Amused and also a little disgusted by the display. "I'll get a bucket for you. Also… you might want to brush your teeth. Throw the old one away when you're done, okay? I'll get you a new one."

He turns around, feeling ready to go and find that bucket. But he remembers one thing, one thing from before. Something that he just has to share with the sad excuse crying on the floor.

"Don't feel bad, Bum. My mom did the exact same thing."


End file.
